


No Strings

by CrackingLamb



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Enthusiastic Consent, F/M, First Time, Friends to Friends with Benefits, No BDSM (this time), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Shameless Smut, Wow...This is a Rare-pair?, welcome to rare-pair hell I guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:53:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25532422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrackingLamb/pseuds/CrackingLamb
Summary: “What I want, huh?  I want to push you, Sa'vir.  I want to see what makes you tick, what makes you break.  I want to see what makes you fall apart so I can catch it.  You carry a lot by yourself.  I've got big hands, I can handle it.  I want to see you put it down for a while.  No strings, no pressure. Just you.  And me.”Iron Bull shows Lavellan that he's good for more than just watching her back.
Relationships: Female Inquisitor/Iron Bull, The Iron Bull/Female Lavellan (Dragon Age)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 109





	No Strings

**Author's Note:**

> My first Iron Bull fic. Achievement unlocked, lol.
> 
> Beta'd, as always, by Iron_Angel, thank you love. Where would I be without you?

Sa'vir shrugged out of the jacket and tsked at the tear across the back of it. She needed to find sturdier leather if she was going to be running her ass off for these humans. Like the bearskin they'd scored earlier, perhaps. As it was, she needed it to keep her relatively protected until they returned to Haven, which was not likely to be for another few days. In the meantime, she would just have to sew this one up.

She settled down at the fire where Solas was making dinner and Varric was taking notes while idly chatting with Iron Bull. She pulled out her kit and got to work. She felt like she was being watched and looked up to see Bull facing her. Varric was still scribbling, so she assumed it was just a pause in their 'make the spy realism better' conversation they'd had going on and off all day. She cocked her head at Bull in a querying way. He grinned.

“You'll want to cross hatch those stitches, Boss. Otherwise they'll never hold.”

Now she raised an eyebrow at him. “You think I don't know that? I have to lay down the first line of them or I'll have nothing to cross stitch.”

His grin grew wide and he reached into his pocket and withdrew something he tossed at it with negligent grace. Sensing a challenge, she caught it without looking up from the mess of torn leather jacket in her lap. His appreciative chuckle followed across the fire. With a glance she saw the other two shaking their heads at the pair of them.

She looked at what he'd thrown her. A ball of heavy twine, much thicker than what she was using on the stitches. It was waxed and looked more like corded sinew than thread. She looked up at Bull and he nodded even as he began spouting more details to Varric. The twine was warm from being in his pocket and she pulled a length of it free without trouble. She barely managed to get it into her needle, but once she did, she tossed the rest of it back at the Qunari, who caught it neatly, even though his blind side was to her. It was her turn to grin.

Her jacket was mended by the time Solas announced their dinner was ready. The rest of them put away their various tasks and ate in companionable silence. She had to admit it, for a hedge mage who wandered the earth, he was a damned good cook. Then she laughed at herself for wondering why that surprised her. He had to live off his own cooking, didn't he?

“So, Boss, I've been meaning to ask you, what's with the name?”

“Hmm?” she replied, caught off guard by the random question.

Bull grinned. “Your name. You elves all have fancy meanings to them, right?”

“Says the 'Iron Bull'?” His teeth flashed in the firelight. “It means 'the first path' or 'the one way' or something like that.”

“It also means 'the _only_ way',” Solas said quietly. She glanced at her fellow elf and scooped up the last of her dinner into the crust of her bread. “It is an unusual name.”

Sa'vir made a face at Solas. Leave it to him to dredge up something she didn't like to talk about with near strangers. Of course she knew that's what her name meant. Her mother nearly died birthing her, and the Keeper had to cut her from her mother's womb. It was the only way they'd both live. And it was why she was an only child. But she didn't want to share any of that.

“My mother named me,” she said, shrugged, and left it at that.

The subject turned as Varric began some amusing story of his time with Hawke in Kirkwall and she cleared up their bowls and utensils. She put a mug of beer next to Bull, a watered wine next to Varric and plain water within easy reach of Solas. She felt Bull's eye on her as she puttered around the camp, but he didn't say anything. Not until later, when the others had gone to sleep in their shared tent and she was banking the fire for the night.

“Let me see the rest of it,” Bull said, appearing behind her and making her jump.

“The rest of what,” she scoffed.

“The rest of your back. If your armor was that torn to shreds, some of it got through to skin. Let me see.”

“I'm fine, Bull.”

He huffed. “Sure you are. Ya know, they might not see it, how you never sit still, how you always bring us exactly what we want to drink or eat and rarely take anything for yourself. You don't complain, you hardly seem to sleep. I see it, Boss. Your shoulder's a mess of tightness. You either have bruises or cuts. Now let me see.”

Sa'vir gusted out a hearty sigh and turned her back to the fire, so he would have some light. She pulled her shirt up over her head and shoulders, leaving her front still covered. She didn't think she had cuts – the swipe from the bear had torn her armor and merely knocked her off her feet – but he was right on all the other counts. It hurt like fury and covering over the ache of it had been a challenge around the others.

Bull hummed under his breath. She felt the rasp of his fingers on her skin and flinched just a little. “Hurts?”

“A bit, yeah.”

“We still have that elfroot stuff?”

“Of course.”

“You okay with my big hands on you?”

She knew he probably didn't mean it to happen, and hopefully he didn't _know_ it happened, but a spear of heat slammed into her gut at his words. Her biggest secret, the one she kept hidden by letting him see all the rest. She wanted him in the worst way. She was glad it was dark, she was shadowed further by the firelight and her shirt was conveniently tucked halfway around her face.

“Yeah, I'm fine with it,” she said, hoping she didn't sound desperate. She heard him rifle through their packs until he found the healing salve, but he paused before he started working on her.

“Not a lot of light out here for a one eyed Qunari. You think we might take this somewhere where I can see what I'm doing?”

“Uh, yeah, there's a lantern in my tent.” And fool that she was, she didn't even stop to think about that statement as she uttered it. _Idiot, now what are you going to do?_

“Lead the way, Boss.”

Well now there was nothing for it. She crossed the camp and into her tent, holding the flap back with her partially pinioned arms so he could duck his head inside. He turned up the lantern until it was bright and gestured for her to turn her back to it.

“That's a nasty bump,” he said, opening the jar of salve and smoothing a finger's worth of it at the top of the bruising. The sharp medicinal tang of elfroot filled the tent. She didn't pay much attention to it, however, since his hands followed the smear of salve, spreading it across her back in light strokes. The elfroot soothed and healed as it sank into her skin and she began to loosen the hunch she'd been carrying in her shoulders. She heard Bull grunt a small laugh when he noticed. “You're a mess, Boss.”

“What do you mean?” she returned indignantly.

“You know we have healers back at Haven. You need someone to give you a good going over.”

“What like, a massage? I don't have the time.”

“You have time right now.”

“What, you're going to do it?”

His horned head appeared in her periphery, tilted down to look at her. His eye glittered at her. “Don't you trust me?”

There was more than just the obvious question there, she knew it. She raised an eyebrow at him. “Fine. Where do you want me?”

He stepped back and waved a hand at the bedroll neatly made up on the floor. “Might want to ditch the shirt.”

Nothing in his voice gave her a hint that he might have ulterior motives, but it still took her a second to drop her arms and let the shirt fall from them. She lay down on her stomach quickly so he didn't have a chance to see anything he...uh...shouldn't. She kept her arms pinned to her sides and felt the bedroll give a little as Bull settled next to her on his knees.

“Relax, Boss.” She tried, and it must have been enough for him, since he started on the back of her neck. One hand spanned her neck and halfway across her shoulders, but his touch was delicate and careful. Gradually he used more pressure, digging into the knots in her muscles with his knuckles. “How does a bitty little thing like you get rocks under your skin like this?”

“I'm an archer, Bull.”

“Yeah, I've noticed. Your shoulders are almost as bunched up as mine.”

She snorted into her pillow, then smothered a groan with it as he hit a particularly tight spot that he worked loose with more patience than she expected from a man known for screaming headlong into a fight. He worked loose the tension from her neck to the small of her back, both hands spread across her skin like a blanket. She wasn't sure how long he worked on her, but she was completely relaxed before he pulled his hands away.

“So, Boss, this is the part where you make a choice.”

“Hmm?” She cracked one eye open and could just barely see him over her shoulder. He was grinning, his eye alight with some nameless, shameless emotion.

“You could tell me to go, or...”

“Or?” she murmured, heart abruptly hammering in her chest.

“Or you could flip over and let me get the rest of it.” Her eyes widened and his grin widened with it, a low chuckle rumbling through his chest. He _knew_. Her brain stuck on that point. He leaned down, not quite touching her as he spoke directly into her ear. It was impossible that he missed how her skin broke out in goosebumps or the shiver she couldn't stop. “Take a minute to think about it.”

“And if I...flipped over?”

He smirked at her. “Then the night will get fun, I think. Doesn't have to if you don't want it to.”

“What do you want? No bullshit,” she added when she saw his face change into something she'd seen only when he talked about the Ben-Hassrath.

He stretched out next to her, remarkably agile for a man so big, who also had _horns_. His fingers threaded through her short hair before coming to rest between her shoulder blades. “What I want, huh? I want to push you, Sa'vir. I want to see what makes you tick, what makes you break. I want to see what makes you fall apart so I can catch it. You carry a lot by yourself. I've got big hands, I can handle it. I want to see you put it down for a while. No strings, no pressure. Just you. And me.”

She couldn't breathe, not with him so close and his eye on hers, his hand on her heavy but comforting. It had been a long time since anyone touched her like this. “Say my name again.”

His mouth quirked in a sideways grin. He drawled it at her and the sound of it went straight to the center of her being. “Sa'vir. The only way.”

She rolled on her side facing him, still with her arm in front of her, but otherwise naked from the waist up. “No strings, huh?”

“Well, maybe some at some point, but not tonight.” She got the feeling he wasn't talking about relationship strings, but something much more...literal. A thrill went through her at the thought of being completely at his mercy. “What's it gonna be, little bit?”

Slowly, so slowly she could see her hand shake, she reached for his cheek. She could feel his short beard under her palm, could feel the edge of the Anchor scuff against his skin. His eye crinkled as he smiled at her. She barely whispered, “How long have you known?”

“Always. The way your eyes lit up the first time we met, I saw it then. I wasn't gonna complain,” he ran his fingers through her hair again. “I like redheads.”

“You're impossible.”

He snorted, then grew serious again. “What will it be? I'm not moving until you tell me to. One way or the other.”

Her hand slid up the side of his face until she could tug on his ear. She pulled him closer. “Flip me.”

The kiss was sweeter than she expected. His hand glided down from the back of her head to her waist, his thumb against her ribs. It made her breath catch and he stole the opportunity to press his tongue against hers, absorbing the sound she made. All at once his grip shifted, holding her tight as he sat up with her. She was forced to straddle him or bend her spine backwards. He moved back to her hair, his fingers on her scalp, his palm cradling the cap of her skull. He tugged her cropped hair so she dropped her head back on a gasp and he rumbled with laughter.

“Quietly, little bit. You don't want to wake the others, do you?”

“Why do I get the feeling you're going to try to make me?”

He grinned and it was dark and heady. “Last chance to duck out.”

“No. No ducking out.”

“Good girl.”

She hadn't noticed his hands moving on her, but she felt when her breeches popped open. Before she could so much as tease him for being sneaky, he'd lifted her onto her feet, yanking the leathers right down her hips and legs. Standing she was taller than him, although not by much. He nipped her belly and gripped her backside to keep her in place as she kicked her crumpled clothes out of the way. Once she was free of them, he pulled her leg up over his shoulder, making her flail.

“Go on, grab the horns.”

She did and he growled again. He lifted her off her toes with the hand still on her backside, her leg over his shoulder leaving her wide open and exposed. And he took full advantage. His mouth covered her sex with a hot breath before his tongue slid from her opening to her clit without warning. She choked back a strangled cry and tightened her hands on his horns. He was relentless against her, delving as deep as he could go with his tongue, lapping at her clit until she was trembling, nipping his lips gently along the folds of her flesh.

“Bull,” she sighed. “Please...”

“Need something, little bit?” he asked, drawing back just enough to speak.

“I need...”

“Yes?”

“To come...”

“So come,” he said, as if it was perfectly reasonable that she would like this. He didn't wait for her to speak again, but went back to his assault, lips and teeth and tongue driving her higher. She was holding herself up on his horns now, pumping her hips against his face as he sucked and licked her. It was maddening. Her inner muscles wanted to clench on something and her face was burning as she tried to keep her cries soft so they didn't escape the tent. He was rumbling with laughter and the vibration of it against her flesh was almost more than she could stand.

“Creators, please...” she whispered. He answered by swirling his tongue around her clit before flicking it, an almost feather touch. His breath was hot and heaving and the combination was enough. She curled her body over his head as she came, stifling her breath so she couldn't scream. He held her in place and didn't stop until she was sobbing and thrashing against his face.

She couldn't escape the overwhelming sensation and she peaked again, near painful in magnitude. This time she was gasping and she knew she had clawed the back of his head. He made a sound like a roar, the feel of it shuddering through her center and into her spine.

He finally pulled away and put her back on her feet. She felt like she might just collapse into a heap. She couldn't remember the last time she'd come so hard, much less twice in a row. Bull wiped his chin against her belly and looked up at her. “You all right, little bit?”

She laughed breathlessly. “I'm fantastic.”

“Good. You want more or you gonna call it a night?”

“What? Why would I..? You didn't...”

“Go on, say it,” he prompted when she faltered. Was he really offering to leave it there and not chase his own release?

“I want you, Bull. All of you.”

“That so?” His fingers trailed along the backs of her thighs and even in whispers there was an intensity to both their voices that made her think there were more strings attached than he cared to admit.

“Yes, Bull, that is so.”

He tugged on her so she lay back down on the bedroll and shifted alongside her, his body blocking out the light of the lantern. She watched him as he stroked his hand down her torso, skimming across her breast with a quick, gentle pinch to her nipple before continuing down her ribs and belly. “How long has it been, little bit?”

“Um...a year or so?”

“So long? Your clan is full of idiots.”

“I spent a good portion of that crossing through war torn lands on my way to the Conclave, you know.”

“Fair enough.” His hand spread out across the junction of her thighs, not really cupping her, but he could with very little effort if he wanted. “Still, do you know what you're asking for?”

She reached for his waistband and pulled it until it opened and she could snake her hand inside. He was hard and throbbing and her fist didn't go around it. She squeezed his cock until her longest finger barely brushed her thumb in a circle, grinning at the low groan he made. She stroked his length with that tight fist, measuring how long he was against what she'd known before. She wasn't surprised in the slightest that he was built...proportionally.

“I know what I'm asking for now, Bull.”

He shoved her leg out of his way and dipped one finger into her slick, coating it before pushing it inside her. She bit her lip and locked her eyes with his. He pressed deep until his palm hit her pubic bone and then he curled it inside her. She jolted, her body already so sensitized that the slightest shift was overpowering. She'd come twice already, but she was ready for a third.

“Oh, Bull...”

“Hmm, I like that sound, little bit.” He leaned over her and whispered in her ear. “Do it again.”

She moaned into his neck as he flexed and curled his finger in her. He added a second, stretching her gently but inexorably and she was close to thrashing again. His thumb hit her clit and she was gone. She sank her teeth into his neck and muffled her shout against his skin as she came. He hummed his approval and pulled his hand away, sliding his fingers against her clit as he did, now chuckling at how she jumped. He pushed down his ridiculously baggy trousers and sat back on his heels between her legs. He looked her over for a moment, taking in her disheveled and flushed body. He seemed pleased with himself.

“Please, Bull,” she begged. He drew her legs over his, pulling her to him while letting her stay flat on her back...more or less. She was arched into his lap. He reached over and grabbed his discarded pants and wadded them up to stuff under her back, giving her support. If they ever did this again, she thought, she would have to make sure she had plenty of pillows on hand. That thought was erased when he started to slip into her. He took it slow, letting her adjust to each inch until she was breathless again and writhing for want of completion. He flexed inside her and she bit the back of her own hand to keep her cries quiet. His little half smile never disappeared as he watched himself fuck her. In and out, slow and steady. She was incoherent now, wordless pleas and begging noises all that escaped her throat. She arched into each slow thrust, saw stars as he hit the spot inside her that made her clench and want to scream. She reached out her arms for him and he pulled her upright into his lap.

He buried his face into her neck, nipping and kissing along the column of it. She held on for dear life as he began to pump into her in earnest, the slap of their skin loud in the otherwise silent tent. She took a hold of his shoulders to keep her balance and rocked her hips into each thrust, drawing sound from him that made her snicker.

“Gotta stay quiet, Bull,” she whispered.

“Pretty hard task you set there, little bit.”

“Yeah, it is pretty har....ah!” He pulled her down onto his cock with his hands on her hips. She was so full she felt like she might explode from it. They groaned in unison and he did it again. The night had been cool when they entered her tent but now she was sweaty and slippery in his grasp. Obscene sounds of their bodies sliding together filled her ears when her own gasps did not. The tension was coiling in her again, unbelievably. He must have been able to feel it.

“Go on, little bit. Come for me again.”

It was like he'd given her permission and the coil unleashed, clamping her muscles tight on him as the pleasure flooded her. He wasn't far behind, pulling her onto him so hard it hurt, but in the best way. She could feel him spasm inside her, filling her until it spilled out onto their thighs. He captured her mouth, letting her cry out and swallowing the sound. She clung to him weakly as he held her up, his grip as steady now as it had been when they started.

At last he began to loosen his hold on her, his body shuddering under hers. He grew soft inside her and slipped out with a squish that made her giggle. He let her lay back and looked her over.

“You look good like that, little bit. Nice and relaxed.”

“Yeah?” she said, feeling stupidly replete and utterly brainless. He smiled down at her.

“Yeah.”

“I feel pretty good.”

She plucked at him like a kitten, trying to pull him down to nestle with her on the hopelessly messy bedroll. She'd worry about that tomorrow. He finally relented and pushed her over so there was room for him. The trousers that had been bunched under her back were now rolled into the crook of his neck, supporting his head so his horns didn't scrape the floor of the tent. “Just pretty good, eh?” he asked. “I guess I'll have to do better.”

“Fuck, you do any better, I'll die.”

“And wouldn't that be a good death?”

She curled into him and his arms went around her. She felt...safe. She knew they'd said no strings attached, but she had no desire for him to leave, and he didn't seem inclined. She tipped back her head to look up at him. He was turned away for a moment, dousing the lantern and flipping the cover over their bodies for the night. She waited until he was facing her again and smiled at him.

“The best.”

**Author's Note:**

> There might be more, at some point down the road. I might make this into a series, so each piece stands alone and I have no pressure to keep at it on any kind of schedule. I have enough longfics on my docket.
> 
> Feedback is the lifeblood, dear readers. I reply to every comment. Cheers!


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